Captain

A Story by Rei Cho

I’ve never once believed that one’s life is determined by one’s self, that I am the captain of my fate. Never have I sought to fight against the current, to swim against the tide. The world moved whenever I did. The world moved even if I did not. If I couldn’t even stop the world from turning, what could I accomplish against an enemy such as destiny?

He held within him a light that was pure. An energy that I had not had. I watched him sitting on the cold wet tiles, the gun held to his head as the light flickered and danced, casting shadows of doubt and melancholy. I knew I must be broken then. I felt nothing of his plight.

I should have told him no. I should have whispered words of love and comfort, should have fanned the light that was dying. I should have added fuel of affection to reignite the flames of passion. I should have tried.

As he laid his head back, the light diminished to nothing, I finally felt something stir in my chest. How can you fight against destiny? How can you rage against the chaos that is life? How do you win?

How do I return from this?

I stared at the blood splattered walls of my bathroom, the beads of scarlet like droplets of fine wine. It dripped onto the tiles and spread across the ground. I took a step back from the mess but I couldn’t stop it’s advance. The crimson pool was going to catch me no matter what I did.

I wasn’t sad he was gone. I wasn’t angry he had left. I wasn’t frustrated at doing nothing. I didn’t care. Not about him anyways. What finally made my heart skip was the knowledge that the cleanup of this bathroom had fallen on me. That the hole left behind as the bullet hit the wall was mine to fix.

I only regretted not trying because of these chores.

He had an energy that was pure, a light that was like a beacon in the night. I always envied the way he drew people in, the way he made them laugh. He could steal into your heart, break all your walls, and he would make you love him. I always wanted to be like that. To encourage, to love, to bring joy… He was kind. Always. He was brilliance in the form of man.

I had wanted that but, as I pulled the heavy gun out of his hand, I can’t help but think I’m lucky. If I had the same light inside myself, would I have broken to the darkness? If a man such as him succumbed, what could I do differently? No. I suppose I too would have been broken. Secretly, I’m glad that I’m empty. Darkness can’t pierce emptiness.

It was silly of me to regret not trying. I doubt I could have made a difference. Had I been someone different, anyone different, I might have stood a chance. But to save a life, I believe you must have to cherish life. You’d, at the very least, must be empathetic in some regards. I’d already failed the minimal requirement.

Life meant nothing to me besides my own. Even if I have children, I doubt I’d care. I know I’d just put up a front. I’d pretend to love them, to care for them, to nurture them. Only, that’s just the job description. I’ll be pretending, something to be done simply because it’s expected. I think, if it got to be too much of a nuisance, I’d drop the act. Better then to not take the chance.

What I am bothered by in all this is the fact that he was bothered at all. Someone with a light within them that would blind the world, a light that would cover up all the ugliness with it’s brilliance… Only someone like that would be able to see. I supposed he must have saw what he protectively hid from others, what he saved from others. It must have been too much, even for his light.

I stood in the pool of his blood, my toes curling in the leaked viscosity of his life, turning the gun in my hand. It was heavier than I remembered. Heavier than when I had put it in his hands. Heavier now that it had one less bullet in its chamber. Maybe I shouldn’t have let him have it. Would it have changed anything?

I already knew the answer was no. I’ve tried to fight destiny before, to fight my lot in life. I have never won. I never will. Everyone passes. Today was just his day.

I found humor in that. Today was his day. He had done something I never could. Perhaps life had great plans for him and his light. Perhaps destiny wanted him to change the world. But he took control. He left when he wanted. He took life by surprise, usurped destiny’s hold on his soul. He went out in the way he designed it.

But perhaps I can after all. Perhaps destiny wasn’t as insurmountable as I once thought. I looked at the gun in my hand, the muzzle red with the char of his skin. He showed me how. He taught me the secret of beating fate. I held the gun to my head, my heart fluttering with the epiphany. I was no longer a prisoner of the current. I swam against the tide.

But I couldn’t.

I wasn’t afraid of death. That much I knew as I looked at the corpse on my bathroom floor. I let my hand drop to my side, the gun falling into the pool of red with a dull splat. I wasn’t afraid. I just loved myself too much.

I don’t know how to return from this.

I say it out loud as I slump down besides him. I pull him close like he had done for me so many times before. I lay my head on his familiar shoulder, my hand entwining his as I’ve grown used to. I miss the strength in his limp fingers and I realize; this was how I should have fought destiny.

I realize I knew how to fix him.

I don’t know how I can return from this because I knew how to fix him.

I’ve never once believed that one’s life is determined by one’s self, that I am the captain of my fate. The world moved whenever I did. The world moved even if I did not. But I realized, as I held onto the death of the light, I had been the captain of his fate.

I closed my eyes as I felt him grow cold. He had left because of me. I couldn’t do the same. I smiled as I snuggled closer to him.

I wonder, will I ever meet the captain of my fate?